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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28342689">Caretaking (and the feelings that come along with it)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wealthywetsunny/pseuds/Wealthywetsunny'>Wealthywetsunny</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Sexual Situations, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Heart-to-Heart, Jealousy, Masturbation, Mirror Sex, Public Masturbation, Sexual Tension, Spoilers, Teasing, showering together, strip club, voyerism</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:48:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,117</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28342689</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wealthywetsunny/pseuds/Wealthywetsunny</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>She had almost died. Flatlined. Whatever the fuck you wanted to call it, she passed out in the midst of battle as her brain melted into a puddle of helpless mush.</p><p>It’s not easy coming back from something like that. </p><p>Aka: Johnny and V both want to fuck but neither can admit it</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Johnny Silverhand/Female V</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>93</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>403</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>She had almost died. Flatlined. Whatever the fuck you wanted to call it, she passed out in the midst of battle as her brain melted into a puddle of helpless mush.</span>
</p><p>It’s not easy coming back from something like that. </p><p>
  <span>And so she doesn’t. She does what Johnny tells her not to. The step he had so carefully implored her to climb over, she doesn’t. She lays in bed wasting away and watches her TV flicker and change throughout the days. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lets take a bath.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t even have a bath,” she mutters into her mound of pillows, voice coming out muffled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck sake—a shower then. C’mon, you need it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She rolls over with a grunt and spots him leaning against the window, arms crossed and glaring. But it softens slightly when they lock eyes, does she really look that bad? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you saying I stink, Johnny?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Absolutely.” He glitches and is suddenly staring down at her, waving a hand to motion for her to stand. “Let’s go. I’m getting depressed just watching you give up.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She feels him poke at a sensitive part of her brain and she sees sparks for a second. It doesn’t hurt, it’s just uncomfortable, and she hisses at the strange sensation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>V swats angrily at him, missing when he simply disappears. She swings her head around and finds him by the bathroom door, a small tilt to his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t do that, don’t mess with my head on purpose.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes his glasses off, twisting its arms up and down as he regards her. “Just trying to help, kid, a shower can do wonders.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” She swings her legs off the bed, wincing at the cool tile beneath her bare feet. Her hair is a tangled mess atop her head and she feels sweat drip down her back. Fucking gross. “Talking from experience?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure, sure,” he drawls lazily. The beginning of satisfaction creeping onto his face when she gets up and stumbles past him into the bathroom. “After some particularly crazy nights.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The saint that Johnny is, he turns the shower on for her while she undresses. Just a tad too hot, her skin goes red immediately when she steps underneath the spray, but the pain is nice. She’s been feeling numb for a while now. </span>
</p><p>V’s legs are shaky right from the start, just standing there, her knees knock together like a baby doe. Her arms go criss-cross over her chest, gripping tight to her shoulders as she turns away from Johnny, eyes slipping closed to focus on the hot water. </p><p>
  <span>“Sit down before you keel over.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She glances over at him, watching the water splash out past the glass wall and off towards him. It simply fazes through his glitching body, and for a moment she’s entranced by the image. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“V. Sit.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A nod. Her head feels like it’s going to fall off. Shouldn’t she be better by now? It’s been weeks.  She slides down the wall, tailbone radiating pain when she collapses a little too roughly against the shower floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She draws her knees up and tucks her head towards her chest. Just breathing. Trying not to think too much lest she send herself into a frenzy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s the soft touch of metal fingers trailing along her back, sliding up and down her spine in a way that must be meant as comforting. And well...it kind of is. She hasn’t been touched sweetly in so long, every time someone has put their hands on her it was to cause pain. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not Johnny. They’re closer now. Brothers in arms so to speak. His dog tags on her nightstand prove that much. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hand moves further up her back, cupping the base of her neck for a brief squeeze and moving onto her scalp. Messaging gently. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>An appreciative groan falls from her lips and she peeks up at Johnny through wet lashes. “Sit with me? Please?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hesitates for just a second, retracting his hand and swallowing roughly when she huffs at the lack of contact, before moving to slip into the shower. Crossing his legs to sit down in front of her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She grabs his hand and squeezes it, amazed once more at how very real he feels. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should wash yourself,” he says eventually, though how much longer into her shower she can’t be sure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...yeah.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her cheeks are flush red with embarrassment. It can be written away by the heat of the water but she knows better. She shouldn’t need to be catered to like a child or some invalid. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s not weak. She’s not broken. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she certainly feels it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Need help?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her head jerks up and she realizes that she’s just sitting holding a bottle of shampoo, hands curled so tightly around the plastic that her knuckles have gone white. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“N-no. I got it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s got her flustered and she isn’t paying attention, she puts too much shampoo in her hair and the suds force her eyes close instantly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her leg knocks into Johnny’s still clothed knee, wanting to feel him. Irrationally afraid that he’ll leave her here when she’s trying to piece herself back together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Johnny sighs real heavy and reaches out to graze his fingers across where her pelvis juts out against her skin. “We’ll get some food after this. I’ve hardly seen you eat these past few days. You’re skinny as hell.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a very small part of her that wants to tell him that he’s rude for saying such a thing, he knows she’s been low on eddies these past couple of days, but she has to remind herself that he’s only trying to help. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s one of the strange side effects of sharing a head, their intentions getting twisted into one. She feels his empathy and care for her, emotions that she knows he only ever reserved for Alt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a thought that makes her flush all over again. She scrubs a little harder at her scalp, rinsing the shampoo away until she can open her eyes again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Johnny’s staring at her, at her body and the picture she makes. With her arms up in her hair she’s putting her chest on full display. He meets her eyes and there’s the hint of a smile on his face when she rushes to place her hands over her breasts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve seen every part of you, inside and out, but you still get nervous when I see your tits?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her lip twitches, “fuck off, Johnny.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t really want that.” He leans back against the wall, legs spread crudely, and she has to thank her lucky stars that he isn’t naked. “I’m sorry, okay?” He laughs at the way her lips twist. “Can I stay then? All’s forgiven?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah...yeah, fine. Enjoy the show.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rolls his eyes, not impressed with her sharp barb when just moments before she hadn’t at all minded him joining her. But she’s coming back to herself slowly—Johnny was right on that front, the shower was a great idea—and she’s come to the conclusion that she really does like Johnny. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s her friend. Her closest confidant. He hasn’t lied to her or cheated her. And he’s taking care of her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Starting to sound like a soap opera, V.” He kicks at her calf, boot scraping against her skin. She recoils because </span>
  <em>
    <span>ouch, </span>
  </em>
  <span>that shit hurt like a bitch. But he eats that reaction up, smiling wickedly, “want me to take something off?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you go from being a sweetheart to an absolute dick in the span of five minutes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pretty easily. And I only reserve my kindness for those you really need it.” He frowns slightly and gives her a once over. “You </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> feeling better now, aren’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shrugs, “a little.” She runs her hands down her legs, over the inside of her thigh where she eventually stops at her mound. “Gotta shave though, feel more like me again. Then we’ll eat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Johnny hands her a razor, lips quirking when she snatches it and tries to scoot back to give her room to stretch out her legs. His arms are twisted behind his head, giving the impression of relaxation. But they’re more connected than either of them remember sometimes, and she knows his heart rate is picking up just watching her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s when she gets between her legs that he talks again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t you trim it up nice and pretty?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She pauses, razor blade resting on her outer lips as she looks up at him. “For who, exactly?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well I can’t say myself, ‘cause when I tell ya to do one thing you choose the other.” He sighs and lets his eyes wander down to her nether regions. “But I don’t really have the energy to spew bullshit so,” he shrugs, “for me, yeah, I’ve got a preference on how you can shape it up.”</span>
</p><p>Her eyes narrow, “you want to have a say so in my pubic hair?”</p><p>
  <span>“Well I see it enough.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She cringes, pulling her bottom lip in with her teeth. It’s hard to have to constantly remind herself that she’s no longer alone, privacy is now a thing of the past. So yeah, occasionally he sees a lot more than he probably ever bargained for. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Though he’s never complained. Never once asked her to not do something because of either of their modesty. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s your preference then, samurai?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He cocks an eyebrow, staring at her silently for a moment longer before he realizes that she’s serious. He shifts forward, and it’s just now that she sees his shoes and socks are gone, just a little more acceptable shower wear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It helps that his clothes don’t look soaked, makes her feel like she doesn’t have to ask him to undress fully. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She might just die from embarrassment if she tried. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Landing strip would be hot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Like Alt.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>V doesn’t say that aloud, it’s still too raw a nerve for him, she can feel it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The idea of shaping up when she hasn’t done it in so long sounds appealing, but there’s a small voice in the back of her head whispering cruel things. That she’s a replacement. That he’s trying to relive his glory days with Alt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No need to feel jealous for a woman long gone and dead, but the envy creeps up inside her chest all the same. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“V?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He touches her arm, brushing up and down until she snaps her eyes back to his. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to—just tryna get your mind off things and help..”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her lips quirk up and shoves him in the center of his chest. He hadn’t been expecting that and he loses his balance, nearly smashing his holographic head into the tiled wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure you are, you just want an excuse to stare.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughs, a large bellowing sound that has her heart twisting fondly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She feels his eyes on her as she twists around to shape up the hair on her cunt. She hasn’t had a serious partner in years, her sex life terribly dull, but she has to admit that once she’s done she feels...oddly better? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Is that weird? A simple landing strip and suddenly she’s twisting in front of the mirror and humming a pleased note when Johnny appears behind her and whistles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did a good job then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm.” He taps his jaw idly, eyes leaving the mirror to take stock of what’s directly in front of him. “Ass is nice too.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah?” She braces her hands on the sink and sticks her hips out, shifting her weight playfully, which gives him a better view than she realizes. That is until he sucks in a tight breath and his eyes blow wide. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She ducks her head and chuckles to mask her embarrassment for doing something so uncalled for. “Stop staring.” She looks off towards where her pajamas are piled on the floor, and when she turns around Johnny is gone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sighs, hands clenching uselessly by her side. “Fuck me.” V wants to apologize, for what— she isn’t too clear on that front—but the last thing she wants is to push Johnny away. They’re close now, she wakes up and is relieved to see him waiting for her, if she ruins that...best not to think of it. She just can’t blur the lines that have been so clearly drawn in the sand ever again. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>V needs to get out of her apartment, she’s low on food and eddies alike, people are calling her non-stop wondering where their best merc went. And yet she’s been stalling. Taking any sort of gig right about now sounds draining. But so does trying to figure out what lead to follow to get the biochip out of her head before she dies. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Depressing thoughts. Not a good start to the day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She flicks through her closet half heartedly, mentally preparing herself to go outside. Johnny wasn’t there when she woke and it’s making her antsy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s still there technically—just lingering on the edges of her consciousness and watching—but he’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>there. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Not physically. And once again she worries if she’s done something wrong. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She dresses quickly, sans shower because last night was good enough for her, and heads out with a slight slump to her shoulders. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Johnny notices how her mood turns sour as soon as she steps outside then he doesn’t comment on it. But he does finally appear in the passenger seat just as she gets behind the wheel, glitching into reality with a snap of blue light. </span>
</p><p>He brings his leg up to his chest, the other stretching as far as it can go in the confines of her car. </p><p>
  <span>“Finally. Some fresh air and the beautiful view of Night City, never thought I’d appreciate it, but here we are.” He gives her a lopsided grin when she glances over, and all those earlier anxieties evaporate in an instant. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He feels her relief crash into her and his smile widens. “It's there for you too, huh?” He shifts and the leather squeaks under him in a way she didn’t think possible considering what he is. “Sometimes I wake up and think it’s 2015 again. That I’ve got a gig later and need to call Kerry, that I’m still plotting against Arasaka.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He goes to look out the window and she takes that moment to look at him more fully. He’s nervous, muscles pulled taut with unchecked nerves. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then I realize I’m still in your head and I get stupidly relieved that you’re here.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She huffs, fingers drumming anxiously on the wheel. Focusing on the road ahead of her for a second before answering. “Then why'd you wait so long to say hello today? Wanted to sleep in?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her joke falls flat and when she looks over at him he’s frowning. Glasses held loosely in his hand. “I just wanted to give you some space.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah.” She swallows, her throat clicking dryly. “O-okay. I’m fine now though, I feel good. Ready to get back to work.” It’s a lie, they both know it, but he doesn’t call her out on it. Instead he dials into a different part of her thoughts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why’re we going to see a ripperdoc? You haven’t been outside for weeks and now we’re getting some new chrome installed?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t need to explain herself to him, but they’re past the point of being at each other’s throats. And so she sighs loudly and forces the car to go a little faster. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need to talk to Viktor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm. About me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>V gives him a sickly sweet smile, reaching out to pat his cheek, which earns her an annoyed grunt. “Of course, what else?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That gonk won’t be able to do anything, don’t waste your time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That </span>
  <em>
    <span>gonk </span>
  </em>
  <span>is my friend.” She scowls over at him. “Besides, do you have a better idea?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do. I know a place, out in the desert—“</span>
</p><p>“Thought you hated the desert.”</p><p>
  <span>“—a little oasis that I used to visit to unwind.” He leans in to grab her shoulder, giving her a playful shake. “C’mon, I’ll give you directions. We’ll have ourselves a little fun.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fun</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She’s not sure when she did something for fun. Just because she wanted to do it. Nowadays it seems like what she wants doesn’t matter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And yet here’s Johnny, trying his damndest to keep her from slipping any further. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>V sighs, scrubbing at her eyes wearily. She’d be lying to say she’s excited to get back to work. It sounds tiring, and despite the time that has passed she still doesn’t feel like herself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine...tell me where to go.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Johnny’s ‘little oasis’ isn't as far into the desert as she would’ve assumed, but as soon as she walks in she realizes why.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A strip club?! Johnny!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She flushes and resolutely looks away from the half naked joytoys prancing around. “I--I’ve never been to one. I dunno what to do.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She fully expects Johnny to laugh at her, she braces herself for it and glances his way when it never comes. He strides forward and gives her a little shove in the center of her back, the warmth of his hand staying a reassuring constant as he leads her further in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, kid, I’ll tell you what to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leads her to a bar, lets her know these kinds of things are more fun when you’ve got a few shots in you. Especially when you’re as nervous as she is. Which is something she can’t argue with, he can feel her pent up energy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>V orders five shots in quick succession, wincing at the burn each and every time, before Johnny takes her hand and gets her on her feet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can getcha a private show. What’s your preference?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She goes to answer but finds herself frozen, hand grasped tight in his as arousal curls low in her gut at the sight before her. She’s got her eyes locked on stage, on the metal pole in the center with a toned man swinging round and round. Doing things that definitely defy some laws of gravity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Men then?” He says, so close to her ear that she jumps. But when she turns he’s already glitching away, sitting on a nearby table and jerking his head to where the private dancers are wandering around the room to see who’s interested. “Go on, choose one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The way he says it makes her feel awkward, like she’s at the store selecting which brand of ice cream to buy. She has to take a deep breath and remind herself that she’s a functioning adult surrounded by other functioning adults.</span>
</p><p>After all, everyone’s here for the same reason. Still, she wouldn't mind a bit of Johnny’s confidence.</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t have the money for a private dance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go find somewhere to jack in, a vending machine or something, you’ve done worse things.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He has a point. Which is a scary thought—considering doing the things he says. She isn’t even sure if it’s one of his ideas or her own. V jumps when he hops off the table and grabs her shoulders, pushing her forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“C’mon, c’mon, you’re giving me the worst case of blue balls right about now. I can feel you getting all hot and bothered, don’t needta pretend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, before she can protest and ask just what’s gotten into him, she’s standing in front of a man at least five years older than her with spandex clinging around his thighs and just barely covering his cock. His hair is shaved on the side, short on top, reminds her of a military cut--which is hotter than it has any right to be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s got muscles everywhere, and she can imagine him being able to pick her up with ease. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wanna show, honey?” He speaks first because she’s just standing in front of him gawking at his body like some virgin. He reaches out slowly, giving her time to reject his advances, before he grabs her hand and rubs his thumb across the back of her hand sweetly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>V knows he gets paid to do this kind of thing but the affection mixed with his low purr of words makes heat flare up in her belly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm? Whatdya say? You look like a good time.” His other hand comes up to cup her cheek and she melts. Johnny really does have the best ideas, she’s feeling better already.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-yeah. Yes, please.” She tilts her head up to look into his eyes, dark pools of brown that she could easily get lost in. “Do I pay now or…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Later. Before you leave right at the entrance.” He chuckles, leaning in so close that she feels her heart skip a beat. “This your first time?”</span>
</p><p>She nods, catching sight of Johnny over the dancer’s shoulder. He looks so smug, triumphant even. It’s his eyes that do her in though, they’re hungry. Lustful. He feels her own arousal, twisting it into his own, pushing it back to her until they create this god awful feedback loop.</p><p>
  <span>V refocuses back on the man in front of her and his question. Stuttering out a nervous “uh-huh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>cute</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he preens, “let’s go, honey.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The private room he guides her to isn’t as private as she might’ve once assumed or preferred, Johnny’s there. Sitting across from them on a curved, plush bench. Arms spread across the back of it and legs going just as wide. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His glasses are off and he’s at an angle where she can just barely see him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s enough though, enough to make her neediness spike just so when he cups a hand as casual as can be over his crotch. Her eyes snap away quickly, feeling like she’s seeing something private despite how Johnny doesn’t seem to care if her eyes wonder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s seen her naked dozens of times, but having it go the other way seems wrong. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The joytoy climbs up on her lap, straddling her hips and steadying himself by bracing his hand on the wall behind her head. She cranes her neck back to look up at him, hands settling on the couch to keep from touching what she isn’t meant to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Next time we’ll getcha a BD or something, so you can touch to your heart's content.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up, Johnny.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her hips jump, twitching when he grinds down. His clothed cock rubbing against her own covered sex. It’s ridiculously good considering how long it’s been since she last got off. It’s the best kind of stress relief, rutting into a complete stranger as his hands pull her into his sloppy thrusts as he holds onto her ass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He must really like you--they usually don’t touch clients.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>V shudders at Johnny’s voice, the man on her lap is blocking him from her view completely and of course the asshole has to make himself known somehow. She wants to tell him off but then the joytoy grabs her breast and squeezes, rubbing her nipple through her t-shirt and bra. She arches up, a low whine falling past her lips unbidden. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ask him to do more.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nrgh--can’t, Johnny, pretty sure that’s illegal in several places in Night City.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Johnny makes a frustrated noise and when the joytoy climbs off her lap she gets to see why. He’s got a hand shoved down his pants, moving furiously to rub one out. He catches her eye and his movements pause for just a second before he shrugs and gives her a helpless smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s been awhile.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fifty years.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. And I want to get off, c’mon, make him have you cum.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She flexes her fingers anxiously, focused on how the joytoy starts to slip off the spandex he’s wearing before lowering himself back down on her lap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’d be easy to ask, to play cute and bat her eyelashes, but she still feels the hot flames of embarrassment licking at her heels. She doesn’t want to cum in front of Johnny anyway. If the need gets really bad she can always take the omega blockers Misty gave her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Johnny grunts, glaring at her. Hand still working over his dick in. He’s not pulling himself fully out, and she can’t help but think that he won’t be able to finish that way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That a bet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“N-no. Fuck off, Johnny.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughs, legs spreading a touch wider. “I like the way you say my name like that, breathless and whiny. You think if I cum you’d feel it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes blow wide when he twists his hand a certain way and she most definitely feels </span>
  <em>
    <span>something. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“You wanna?” He asks, glitching off of the bench to appear next to her. “Can’t get any better than this, V, someone who knows everything about you. Who has seen all your most intimate thoughts and desires.” He leans his cheek against her shoulder, nuzzling into her. “No one could do better than me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s shaking, fingers twitching and hips rocking into the joytoy’s exposed cock. She can’t do this, she can’t cum here. In front of a stranger and Johnny.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why the fuck not? I told you--I know everything about you, I know what you’re thinking right fucking now. Aren’t we past the point of pretending you don’t feel a little bit of something towards me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>V’s eyes close, her hand coming up to grab the back of the joytoy’s thigh to angle him in the right direction because Johnny still has a hand down his pants and the feelings are translating directly to her pussy. She can feel herself dripping, ruining her panties.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re wrong, thinking I want something to do with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah? Then what is this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She keens high in her throat, something coiling low in her belly as her end begins to approach. “Jus’ stress relief.” She whines when he does something wicked with his hand and she feels the exact same thing, the feeling doubling ten fold by the cock sliding against the front of her jeans.</span>
</p><p>When she cums it’s with an earth shattering cry. Body trembling weakly as her cheeks go bright red. Having an audience isn’t something she’s used to. </p><p>
  <span>“Knew you’d be a good time.” The joytoy’s hand slides through her sweaty hair, moving down to cup her cheek fondly. “Stay as long as you like, honey, hope I get to see you again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leaves with no other words exchanged between them, leaving her alone with Johnny. The absolute dick that he is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now that’s not very nice to say to someone who just made you cum.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck. You.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Johnny huffs, moving away from her only slightly. Glowering. “That’s real mature, V.” He watches her stand and pace, eyes following her and giving a slight sarcastic wave when she finally looks his way. “You want me. You’re just mad that I called you out. You liked teasing me in the shower, your heart fucking broke when I wasn’t with you this morning, you liked it when you found out that I brought you to a strip club. C’mon now, V, what’re we doing playing games? Fuck.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She frowns at him, unsure if the growing emotions inside her—the want to have him near and the ache when he isn't—if that’s just a seed he’s planting. Deep down she knows that can’t be true, not with feelings this strong and buried so far inside her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it’s not something she can deal with. Not now. He’s just an engram. Soon enough he’ll be gone. He means nothing to her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not true.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her fingers are shaking as she digs her hand into her back pocket until she produces a small, blue pill. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“V. Stop that, don’t you dare run away from me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She turns her back on him so she doesn’t have to see his soft eyes trying to tug at her heartstrings. Then she downs the pill and feels him slip away from her consciousness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peace at last. She needs time to think. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“V? You awake yet? Fuck, kid, you gotta get up, you got yourself into some deep shit when I was gone.”</span>
</p><p>She comes to slowly, vaguely aware of the painful thrumming sensation at the base of her skull. She tries to open her eyes to find the source of the pain—Johnny no doubt, being a nuisance now that the blockers have worn off, but her lids are strangely heavy. </p><p>It takes a few tries before she manages a sluggish blink and catches Johnny bent down in front of her, concern and anger wrapped into one.</p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck did you do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>V frowns at him, swallowing and immediately regretting it when she feels just how dry her throat is. Like she’s been out of it for a while. Her heart stutters in her chest and suddenly she remembers everything with burning clarity. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Johnny?” Her voice shakes, fear tinged as it is, and she reaches out for him instinctively. Seeking comfort she doesn’t deserve. “I didn’t—I’m so sorry. They tricked me. The Scavs,” she shakes her head dismissively, no need to rehash it all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s in danger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Left completely naked soaking in a tub full of ice, jacked into a beeping machine off to her right. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re gonna kill me,” she mutters, fingers starting to shake when she lays her eyes on a metal tray piled high with scapals and syringes, blades meant to cut her open and steal her cybernetics and organs alike. Stripping her like an old car left abandoned in a lot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, so we gotta delta before they get back. You’re brain’s not too scrambled, is it? You can stand?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>V manages a feeble nod, strength coming back, albeit slowly. She clambers over the edge of the tub, almost tripping in her haste to unjack herself. Johnny catches her, letting out a low grunt when she collides into his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s hard to believe that a few weeks ago she was on top of the world. Living the high life with Jackie at her side—they were on their way to becoming legends. Hell, even after the botched Arasaka job she was doing alright. She was getting by, at least. Surviving. She was strong. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not now though, for the past month she’s been on a downward spiral. And this certainly hasn't helped her morale.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Enough with the pity party.” He steps away, glitching off towards the door and glaring at the metal impasse. “C’mon, you’re tech savvy, you can get through this thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nods, he’s right and they both know it, but hearing him say so gives her a little surge of confidence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>V maneuvers through the halls like a ghost. Flawlessly and perfect. Even Johnny seems impressed. It’s the lack of clothes, she jokes in a stairwell, makes her faster. That shocks a laugh out of him, a rare smile curling his lips up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t think they scanned me, do you? They woulda seen the broken relic—maybe even had the know how to figure out what it is.” Her steps falter, hesitating on the steps as she collects her thoughts. “That could be why they didn’t gut me yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All the more reason to get the hell out of here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yes, she agrees silently, they’re not out of the woods yet. It’s just sheer luck that the hallway she crept through has been empty thus far. But there’s no telling how high these stairs go, if she’ll be spit out right into the arms of someone downright vile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’d feel better if she had a weapon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she reaches the very top she carefully peaks around the door, looking left then right before making a quick decision to go in the opposite direction of the sound of rising voices and music.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“V.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nearly jumps a foot in the air, hand clutching at her chest dramatically as she falls back out of her crouch and onto her ass. The cold cement makes her hiss and glare up at Johnny.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t react though, he’s standing in an open doorway, jerking his head into the dimly lit room. “There’s a vent shaft in here, probably lead outside.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She rushes over, bare feet slapping against the floor too loudly in her haste. And she isn’t sure if it's her imagination or not, but she’s almost positive that she hears people coming down the hall towards her. So just to be safe she slides the door shut and goes into another low crouch. Scanning the room until she spots what Johnny had been talking about.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good eye, rockerboy. We might live through this yet.”</span>
</p><p>He hums, pleased as punch. Disappearing into her head once more. It’s a small blessing that he goes quietly, she woke up with dread—just waiting for the moment Johnny would snap and start yelling. She wouldn’t blame him, she’d deserve it. She had been stupid and careless, off her game after weeks of being off the streets.</p><p>
  <span>Johnny had kept her in line while she tried to get back on her feet. Without him...well this happened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A stupid, silly mistake that almost cost her both their lives. She’s not even sure she would’ve seen the ducts if he weren’t here with her. But to be fair she could’ve went her whole life without having to squirm her small body through the tiny, hot vent shafts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She manages though, and it’s only once she pops out on the other side that she realizes she’s still very much naked. She dives behind a trash can, almost tipping it over. Arms huddling around her body as a weak form of protection.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’re you doing hiding there?”</span>
</p><p>“Johnny, I can’t...I don’t even know how far from home I am.”</p><p>
  <span>He snorts, “how a merc like you can stand to be so fucking modest, I won’t ever understand.” He goes to sit beside her, giving off a shred of heat in the coolness of the nighttime. There’s that caveat, at least, better cover under darkness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t choose this life—“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bullshit. Kinda like how I didn’t choose to become a terrorist?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>She shakes her head, shoving at his knee forcefully. Only succeeding in making it wobble from how he’s got it bent. “That’s different. You had a say so in your legacy, you knew damn well what you were doing when you walked into Arasaka Tower.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe.” He knocks his head back against the brick wall they’re leaning against. “So are we gonna choose to sit out here and waste away or go and find your apartment to waste away there instead?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s tempted to come back at him with some snarky, petty comment, as had been their routine, but she’s so fucking tired of being angry all the time. So she gets up silently and starts off down the alleyway, jumping between shadows until she finds her way back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>****</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A shower sounds wonderful, it’s the first thing to cross her mind when she gets inside her apartment. The kind of thing she needs to soothe her achy muscles that have grown into painful knots. She flops down on her bed, face down, and looks around for Johnny. The company he offers would be nice, but he’s nowhere to be found.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Giving her space maybe, he’s been more considerate since their heart to heart. When he passed over his dog tags and promised her—vowed to her—that when push comes to shove that he’d give away his life for hers. She’d be the one standing in the end, he told her that and she felt just how genuinely he meant that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In return she said she’d take a bullet for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And if she had known, lying there practically comatose, that such a sentiment would come into play sooner rather than later...well for starters she probably wouldn’t be dozing off and turning her back to Johnny when he tries to wake her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Five more minutes. Promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We don’t have five minutes, V, we’ve got company.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s when she hears the banging at her door. She’s leaping off her bed in an instant despite the protest her weary body puts up. She throws on clothes as she goes, stumbling over herself in her haste. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A tank top thrown over her head that’s inside out, jeans that are a touch too big and mismatched socks. It takes her two embarrassing tries of jamming her shoes on the wrong foot before she gets it right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All the while the banging doesn’t stop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Think it’s the Scavs?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doesn’t matter,” Johnny remarks, striding inside the armory after her. “You’ve got lots of enemies. No point in guessing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She chooses weapons at random, strapping a scuffed pistol to her thigh and clutching a rifle to her chest. She steels herself before approaching the door, breathing in deep and giving Johnny one last glance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her heart leaps up into her throat when she realizes how much she doesn’t want to die. It comes across in a terrifying flash of clarity that makes her tremble. Why hasn’t she ever feared death until now? Is it Johnny’s emotions or her own? Fuck, does it even matter?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit, okay, here we go.” She pushes herself against the wall next to the door, fingers brushing over the cool metal to allow it to slide open. It’s Johnny’s sudden panicked curse in her ear that has her realize a moment too late that something is wrong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then her intruders are flooding into her apartment and she sees why.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not the Scavs come to recollect their prey, not the Tyger Claws or Maelstrom coming to settle some sort of debt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Corpo suits. Arasaka in the flesh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It hits her then, as a flashbang gets tossed inside and rubber bullets fly, that someone snitched. They’re not trying to kill her, but capture her.</span>
  <em>
    <span> They know. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The realization is nauseating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fucking move it, V!” Johnny grabs her by her shoulders and gives her an almighty push towards the windows. They’re cracked from the initial spray of bullets, a hasty escape route. But she doesn’t have much of a choice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The flashbang going off makes her fall to her knees, her gun goes off, finger twitching reflexively when she falls, and she hears a pained yelp as the bullets find a home lodged inside some random corpo scum.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Johnny grabs her again, and to an outsider it must look like some sort of chrome enhancement that allows her to move so fast and break the glass panes with ease. Surely they’re aware of the relic inside her head though, they must know that it’s Johnny slamming his shoulder into the glass that breaks it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She falls quick and fast, eyes closing as wind rushes past her. It makes her ears pop and she can’t help the fearful yell she lets loose. She hits something first though, before her helpless body slams against the pavement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A balcony. Three stories down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It knocks the air out of her and for a few agonizing moments she can’t breathe. She sputters and coughs, rolling onto her side and pushing a hand to her chest like that would open up her airways.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Johnny glitches into existence, rubbing circles into her back, eyebrows tilted down with concern.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jesus christ, kid.” He huffs an amused sigh when they lock eyes. “Thought that was it for the both of us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-yeah.” She gets her hands under her and reaches for the guardrail, vertigo hitting her hard at the sight of the ground far below. “Me too. Bunch of dumb fucking luck keeping us alive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh. I thought it was skill.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She snorts, stumbling away from the balcony and slipping inside the apartment. It’s empty, thank god, and she’s able to step into the hallway and the elevator without incident either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry to disappoint, I’m a terrible merc.”</span>
</p><p>He tips his head to the side but keeps quiet. She feels his thoughts come across clearly though, he isn’t displeased at all to have ended up inside her head. </p><p>
  <span>She hurries out of the elevator and into the street, fully expecting an army to be waiting for her. They hadn’t planned for that little stunt. Not many people can get past Arasaka. And even if she has for now, they’ll keep following her. Hunting her down because of the scientific anomaly her and Johnny make.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Johnny’s staring at her intently when they start driving. leaning his head on a curled fist, jostling with each bump from the road. He has something to say and his hesitation only serves to make her annoyance flare.</span>
</p><p>“What is it Johnny?”</p><p>
  <span>“What’s our plan?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sighs, fingers drumming anxiously against the wheel. The very last thing she wants to do is get her friends involved. But she doesn’t have much of a choice, she can’t imagine what Arasaka would do if they got their hands on her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’d ship us off to Mikoshi. Where people and engrams alike go to live in purgatory.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A strangled noise comes out of her throat, something like a whimper. She feels the pressure of tears coming on, but they don’t have time for her to pull over. She wipes at her eyes messily, clearing her vision as best as she can while driving.</span>
</p><p>They’ve talked about Mikoshi before, it’s not like she’s naive to the whole thing, but suddenly with the prospect of going there being all the more real...</p><p>
  <span>“Easy, V.” Johnny reaches out, not physically, but through whatever mental bond the relic has created. Whatever he’s doing has the same effect as a sedative. It makes her feel light and airy, mind clouding over until she forgets momentarily why she had been upset in the first place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lets go to the desert, the Aldecaldos set up camp somewhere new, they said not even militech goes that far out. We’ll be safe there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s as good a plan as any, so she just nods and sets off in the proper direction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sun is glaringly bright that far out in the desert, they’re halfway there and Panam is expecting them. Texting her constantly for updates, almost every ten minutes, as if she’s scared that something terrible is bound to happen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which is fair, but she hadn’t been planning on running out of gas.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll walk,” Johnny says, already getting out. As if it’s so simple. Like she isn’t dog tired.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Johnny keeps her upright. Throwing her arm around his shoulders and has his chrome arm resting against her hip. Metal digits curled tight into her skin. He starts singing at some point, whether it’s one of his songs or just some oldie from his time she isn’t sure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He has a nice voice though, a smooth baritone that could knock anyone off their feet. He must’ve been a heartbreaker way back when.</span>
</p><p>*****</p><p>
  <span>She’s heard a coyote’s howl more times than she can count—that’s how it is growing up in the desert. She wouldn’t change her childhood for the world, especially now, because she recognizes those howls and her blood freeze in her veins. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Johnny—“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll be fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She snarls in frustration, planting her feet in the ground the best she can. He’s stronger than she’ll ever be though. And he pulls her along easily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s the kind of determination she isn’t surprised to see come from him. But now isn’t the time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re armed,” he snaps, “a coyote isn’t gonna kill us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A pack might. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She thinks bitterly. But she trudges forward after him, a step or so behind. More alert now that they’re being hunted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t see the prowling beast right away, instead she </span>
  <em>
    <span>hears</span>
  </em>
  <span> it, the pounding rhythm of its paws against the sand. Heading straight for them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her brain is sluggish, fatigue setting into her bones, that’s what she’ll blame her next set of decisions on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>V stops in her tracks, eyes blown wide and fear settling inside her stomach. The coyote launches itself in the air and all she sees is red flashing lights as it sails towards Johnny. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before she can think she goes to stand in front of him and take aim. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She gets off two shots, one hitting the animal between the eyes, but not before it claws at her belly. There’s a sharp flicker of pain that makes her crumble to the ground. Clutching at her stomach and hissing when Johnny’s voice gets increasingly louder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you have some kind of death wish?!” He’s yelling now, the kind of screaming that makes your throat raw and has you gasping for air by the end of it. “Did you fucking forget that I </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t get hurt</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>V closes her eyes against the sun, sinking back into the sand. She doesn’t fight him when he pushes her tank top up to rest below her breasts, fingers ghosting along the scratches that are oozing blood.</p><p>
  <span>“They’re not deep. Looks like your luck hasn’t run out just yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hums, shoving her shirt back down to try and get to her feet. But all her muscles seize up. The physical exertion over the past few days has finally gotten to her. Her legs give out and she collapses, her cheek pressed into the hot sand. </span>
</p><p>There isn’t an immediate protest from Johnny, just a gentle sigh. </p><p>
  <span>“We’ll take a break, okay? Jus’ a couple of minutes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes roll up to look at him, watching his pinched expression as he takes her in. “You’re sore,” he remarks, most likely feeling her pain to a lesser extent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm. A massage would be nice, I heard you're good with your hands.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyebrows raise up past his aviators, surprise at her joke perhaps, but he doesn’t poke fun at her request. Quietly he slings one leg across her body, straddling her, almost sitting on the swell of her ass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’re you doing…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said you needed a massage.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was joking—“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shoves her shirt up as far as it’ll go, bunched up below her armpits. “This isn’t entirely selfless. I feel what you do and it’s making me tense. I dunno how you deal with all this pain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Comes with being a merc.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hums softly, a gentle sound that has her relaxing further. His fingers work magic on her back, juxtaposing the pain the wounds on her stomach radiates. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His cyborg hand is hot from the being in the sun all day, and the feeling is glorious against her skin. He digs his fingers into her back, smoothing up and down, rubbing at her neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She groans without thought, arching up into his touches. It’s strangely intimate in ways she never thought they’d be. This isn’t them together bathing or him watching her get off to the sound of his voice, this is sweet. He’s being kind and gentle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Johnny’s hands trail to her sides, brushing over her ribs and lower still to rest on her hips. He leans forward, his chest to her back. He kisses between her shoulder blades and rests his cheek there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She rolls her hips back into his, pushing in as close to him as she can. He reciprocates the sentiment, hands coming around to cup her breasts through the thin material of her tank top and pull her close. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His breathing is shaky and almost...nervous? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That can’t be right. Johnny Silverhand nervous around little ‘ole her?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He clears his throat and pulls back. “We should get moving, V, before it gets any later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She makes a soft, consenting noise, not trusting her voice in the slightest. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>They’re lost. Somehow they got turned around and they’ve been heading in the wrong direction for what she would assume was too large a portion of the day. They should’ve seen something by now, any sort of sign of life. Yet all that lies ahead is a vast array of sand dunes and nothing more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except, bless whatever god that exists, for the abandoned mine shaft they stumble across that barely peeks up out of the ground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s dark and musty when she steps inside, grateful for the cover it provides from the sun. Even so, it’s like trading one suffering for another because the humidity clings to her skin like a new layer of clothes she didn’t ask for. She doesn’t have the luxury to complain though, and it’s safer for everyone--V might not have to get Panam and her clan involved. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So this is home now?” Johnny asks, sitting on an overturned crate. Face barely lit up from the oil lamp she found laying around. “We’re gonna become hermits? What a shit show.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She snorts, rolling her eyes in his direction, earning her a middle finger pointed angrily at her. Real mature. She’s busy searching for bandages, antiseptic, something to make sure the clawed out flesh on her stomach doesn’t get infected. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe.” Her muscles strain when she pries open a corroded locker with her hands, kneeling down to peer inside. “But at least we’re in this together. Misery loves company.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that a confession of your undying adoration for me? V, I’m flattered.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her lips quirk into a smile on their own accord. Amusement shining through the darkness of her inner thoughts. She hopes he realizes how much she appreciates him being here with her, even if neither of them have a choice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The locker endeavor proves to be fruitless, and so she makes her way further into the mines. Pistol in hand, “for rogue bats?” Johnny had quipped at her, bumping into her shoulder as they walked the cramped corridor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The oil lamp is clenched in her fist, it’s broken metal digging into her skin. Shadows bounce playfully against the cave’s walls, showing off a series of branching rooms. V’s suddenly glad that she’s never been afraid of the dark and the monsters that lurk there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She clicks her tongue, impressed as they continue further down and they pass by bunks for sleeping, hastily thrown together kitchen units and a scattering of dank bathrooms.  “Like a little bunker down here, huh?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Johnny just nods, curious gaze flickering around animatedly. “Something from even before my time.” He reaches up for the ceiling, taller than her, his organic fingers brushing against a bronze pipe that rains down rust on them both, as if to prove his point. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She coughs, waving her hand to clear the air. He gives her an apologetic smile and shrugs, “shit’s real old. Real nova.” He passes her, spinning around and walking backwards for a few steps while his head cranes back to take it all in. “I’m surprised it hasn’t collapsed yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not a nice thought, in fact the idea hadn’t even crossed her mind until he brought it up. And he either read her thoughts or saw the way her face went pale because he grabbed her arm to tug her forward with a chuckle. “It’s been standing for years. It won’t fall on our heads today.” He throws an arm across her shoulder, “now let’s find some supplies for you, all this prep they gotta have some sort of med-bay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had been doubtful of that, but turns out Johnny’s not a complete idiot. At the very end of the hall is what must be their medical center. It’s dilapidated beyond belief, falling apart from years of disuse, but some stuff has been left behind. Either because whoever lived here moved on or they were forced to evacuate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Half an hour later, her arms and backpack full of supplies, she purses her lips in thought. “Need a mirror now, a bathroom…let's backtrack. Give Panam a call later, too. Let her know I’m not dead.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their bathroom’s are terribly small. Reminiscent of an outhouse instead of what she’s got at home. Strange, considering the amount of beds they came across, lined up in a large room like some sort of army camp. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She can’t complain that much though, beggars can’t be choosers and all that. It’ll work for patching herself up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She perches herself up on the small sink, hip jutting forward slightly. Her legs knocking against the wooden drawers which at one point were probably white. Her shirt comes off slowly, her teeth gritted from how fucking disgusting she feels. Sweat and dirt and blood that clings to her like a second skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuckin’ gross,” she mutters, tossing her tank top out the door and into the hall. She hadn’t looked before but she’s sure she’ll be able to find a new change of clothes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The oil lamp is balanced on the edge of the sink, giving her enough light to twist in front of the stained mirror. The water doesn’t work when she turns the handle of the spigot, all she gets is a rumbling groan from the pipes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She spits into her hand and wipes the mirror the best she can. Her eyes flick briefly back to where Johnny’s standing against the opposite wall, one hand hanging limply by his side while the other nurses a cigarette between his ‘borg fingers. He holds her gaze for a moment too long and she raises her eyebrows expectantly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t say anything though, just stares and stares. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>V doesn’t have time to feel bothered under his sudden attention. She’s more focused on dabbing expired alcohol wipes on her cuts and sewing herself up with shaking hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The gauze comes next. Tape not sticking as well as she’d like with being as old as it is, but it works for now. She hops off the sink, hands nimbly popping the button on her jeans to shimmy them down her legs. They’re also covered in a mixture of dust and sweat, and it’s such a relief to finally get them off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her shoes and socks come off with her pants and then she’s left standing there in her panties. Wondering how the hell her life turned upside down so quickly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a sigh she turns back to the mirror, hands braced on the corners of its old wood. It creaks as she digs her nails in, frowning at her reflection. She twists her face into different expressions. Varying levels of smiles and frowns, a pout and a wide silent laugh that flashes her canines. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Johnny’s still sulking behind her, looking like he’s undecided on whether he wants to laugh at her or ask what the hell she’s doing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The relic’s taking a toll on her sanity. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She dips her head down, looking away from her dirty face. “Johnny?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a pause. “Yeah?” He flicks his cigarette away, wiping his hand on the front of his jeans in what must be muscle memory. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why’d you take such good care of me? A couple weeks back…? When all I wanted to do was curl up and die—“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you. We’re brothers in arms now, soldiers fighting the same war. I couldn’t just let you fall by yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nods in understanding, still not looking up. But she feels him right behind her, hands settling on her waist as he pushes up against her. It’s reminiscent of when they were last naked in her bathroom together, her teasing him with the playful jut of her ass. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is somehow different. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even if his hands are wandering. Slowly smoothing up her ribs, coming around the front to rest below the cups of her bra. He hooks his chin on her shoulder, staring at her through the mirror. Soft, faux breath tickling her ear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Johnny, what are you doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He removes his hand from her body, the chrome reflecting the lamp’s light so prettily, to take off his glasses and look at her properly. “Just enjoying myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh-huh. Sure.” She reaches back to squeeze his hip. “Let me rephrase that. What are </span>
  <em>
    <span>we </span>
  </em>
  <span>doing? Where do we stand?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, V. Now? We’re doing this now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, is there a better time for it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm.” He tugs one of the cups of her bra away from her skin, peering inside with a pleased hum. “Maybe when I’m not trying to get my dick wet for the first time in 50 years.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that all this is then? If you ended up in some other gonk’s head you’d fuck them, too?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pauses, frowning at her through the mirrors before his expression goes light and airy. Only slightly peeved as an idea pops in his head. “What’re you </span>
  <em>
    <span>jealous</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” He snorts when she doesn’t answer, his metal fingers going in to swipe at the rosy bud of her nipple. The sensation makes her tremble. “God, I swear, chicks sometimes—how can you be jealous about some impossible ‘what-if’ scenario you just made up inside your head? Enjoy the moment, V.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Johnny—“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wanna be my input or something, is that what this is about? You’ve gone and caught feelings. How utterly fucking cliche.” He spins her around then, hands bracketing her waist with a painfully tight grip that is sure to leave bruises—if that’s even something a hologram can do. “I can ask you out nice and proper if you want, then I’ll fuck you right in front of this mirror just like I thought of doing when you stepped out of the shower and showed off for me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her pupils blow wide at his words, at the omission that lies heavily there. She sucks in a tight breath and shifts her weight between her feet nervously. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I jus’ don’t see where this is coming from...tell me that all you want is to get laid. That’s fine. I just don’t want to be strung along and l-love you.” She closes his eyes so she doesn’t have to see his expression. She hadn’t meant to use the “L” word. She continues on with a hitch in her voice. “Especially if I’m gonna wind up losing you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He flounders for a moment. Seeming at a loss for words, which she never thought possible at one point. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His grip on her waist tightens and her eyes snap open. “I think going to find Alt in cyberspace gave me closure to that chapter of my life, if you really want me to get all honest here.” He looks away then, and she traces his stubbled jaw with her eyes. “I’m not...alive. I guess. But I’m real enough. I’m...</span>
  <em>
    <span>me. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Same thoughts and personality and shit like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sayin’ Johnny Silverhand wants another shot at love?” It’s meant as a joke. Just a way to tease him, but he doesn’t answer her right away. Staying deathly quiet, staring off into the distance. And as more time passes she realizes that she might be right. “I’m your muse, then, your magnum opus for the next part of your life. I like the sound of that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulls his hands away, lets them hang limp at his side. The loss of his touch is more difficult to cope with then it should be considering that he’s still so very close to her. Sharing the same air with each passing breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know you’re gonna lose me either way. Eventually I gotta go and let you have your body back, so you being strung along...that’ll happen no matter what when we figure out a way to get rid of me. We can’t change that.” He pulls her in by the back of her neck, brushing their noses together. His lips are inches away from hers but she doesn’t want to be the one to close the gap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wants to see that he really needs her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a gentle sigh he leans in to kiss her. It’s accompanied with a soft nip on her bottom lip, then he’s pulling back and it’s over as soon as it had began. His hands go back to her waist and without warning he lifts her up--stronger than she ever gave him credit for--giving her ass an appreciative squeeze before placing her on the small space the sink offers. Careful not to knock the lamp over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not the view she had been promised, and she can’t help the rush of disappointment thinking she won’t get to watch him at work. He doesn’t leave her upset for long though, he steps into her space, huddled between her legs, and kisses her again. He’s good at it, spurred on when she winds her legs around his slim waist and crosses her ankles, effectively trapping him against her body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His tongue swipes at her lips, asking for entrance which she grants without thought. He explores her mouth as if he’s trying to commit it to memory, and in turn she does the same. Intent on giving him equal treatment. She wants him to feel good, to forget about what’s at stake and the fact that this may never happen again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thought makes her pause, her mouth stops moving with his but he doesn’t let up. Just shifts away from her lips, plump from his attention, and goes down to her neck. He nibbles at her skin and she wonders if he’ll be able to leave a hickey in his wake. Some sort of evidence of his being here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You think too goddamn much,” he mutters against her throat. Lapping at her pulse point after a particularly hard bite that has her gasping as her knees shut in closer around his ribs. He shakes his hair away from his face, his organic hand going behind her back to fiddle with her bra clasp. It takes him a couple tries and a muttered curse but he gets it undone and groans low in his throat when her breasts bounce free.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tosses it somewhere behind him and crowds in impossibly closer. As if she’s some sort of lifeline he can’t live without. Which hits a little too close to home when she thinks about it a tad longer than she should.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then he’s licking at her nipple, his tongue flashing bright pink for a second. He does the same to the other one, just a soft flick that isn’t anywhere near enough. He gives her a wicked grin and blows on her nipples, still coated in his saliva. The sensation is strange, unfamiliar in the best sort of way, making her gasp out of surprise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your tits are sensitive,” he says with a laugh. Moving to grab her hips and yank her down on the floor, their chests pushed together from the proximity. “Wonder if you're sensitive elsewhere.” His hand skims down her stomach lightly, the metal from his ‘borg arm making her shiver. “Gonna let me find out?” He peers into her eyes, so close that she feels the need to hold her breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She gives a subtle nod and that’s all he needs to slip into the front of her panties. Fingers brushing down the freshly shaved landing strip. She sees the excitement in his eyes, the arousal too, coming across clear as day. He ghosts over her clit, neatly pushing around it with two of his fingers until he reaches her entrance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could fuck you like this. Just drag my cock between your slit and have you beg for it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pushes his index finger inside. It’s been too long and just the one digit fits snugly. “Y-you could. But--ah--you won’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He chuckles and the husky sound makes her walls clench. “You seem pretty sure about that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm. That doesn’t seem your style.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He roves his finger around, searching for that sensitive spot inside her that’ll drive her wild. “You’re smart for a merc that thought she could break into Arasaka and get away with it. Knew I liked you for a reason though.” He pumps his finger in and out of her at a terribly slow pace. It’s not enough and he knows it. “You’re right, it’s not my style at all. More of a fast, rough fucking kind of guy.” He pulls his finger out and pops it in his mouth, sucking her juices and making a show out of it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Take off your panties and turn around.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t have to tell her twice, she’s just as excited for this as he is and his authoritative tone makes it so much better. Anticipation making her fingers shake when they slip in the elastic waistband of her underwear to pull them down. She doesn’t make a show of it, no need when they’re both aching with want. They get tossed in the ever growing pile of clothes and she turns around, stomach cutting into the broken edges of the sink. More painful if only because it’s wood that’ll probably splinter and give her some sort of terrible infection instead of the porcelain she’s used to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Johnny slides in behind her, hands spreading her cheeks with a pleased hum. “Comfortable?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Much as I can be.” She glances over her shoulder and her mouth runs dry at the sight he makes. He’s naked below the waist. Vest and dog tags the only thing keeping him somewhat decent. “Johnny...” Her eyes dart down, towards his cock, thicker than it is long. Curving slightly to the left and leaking at the puffy tip. He’s uncut, much to her delight, and with that revelation she can’t help but shift back into him, eager as can be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Think you’re stretched enough?” He takes his cock in hand, stroking languidly, the only lubrication being the spit still sticking to his fingers from when he dipped them in his mouth to taste her. “I only got one finger in you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine,” V bites out, a little more force in her voice that she initially meant. As it turns out, after he teases them both by sliding his dick between her ass cheeks, once he slips inside, it is definitely not fine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tip goes in smoothly and they groan in unison. But that’s about as far as they get before she’s arching her back and gritting her teeth. The stretch is too much, painful past the point of pleasure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Johnny, for his part, doesn’t try to ram the rest of his length inside. Well versed in the throes of passion it seems. He takes ahold of her hip with his organic hand and pulls her back, encouraging her to roll her hips as he does the same.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His dick tunnels inside her slowly with his ministrations, and finally their hips are flush together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His chrome hand comes up to rest under her chin, tilting her head up until she’s staring at them both in the reflection of the mirror. She looks properly wrecked. Her eyes are wide, pupils so large that she can only see a small sliver of her iris. Her lips are parted as she pants out each breath, tongue flicking out when his thumb rests on her bottom lip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He huffs out a breathy laugh and leans in to cover her body with his. It shifts his cock inside her, hitting a sensitive nerve deep within, and she whimpers. Eyes briefly shutting until he starts speaking into her ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want you to look at us.” He gives a small, abortive thrust and that snaps her lids open. Revealing his pleased smile. “There we go, look at how good we fit together.” He straightens back up, both hands going to rest on her hips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>V’s about to beg for him to move, to try and convince him that she’s more than ready, but he beats her to the punch. He pulls out fast and shoves back in, too quick for her to even pass comment. All that comes out is a groan, and that noise alone seems to spur him on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His pace is exactly what she would’ve assumed, what she saw in his memories with Alt when they fucked. That hasn’t changed about him. And for that she’s grateful, after her own dry spell she wouldn’t be able to handle slow and sensual.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She feels his cock nudge deeper inside her with each punishing thrust. She arches back into it, her walls squeezing tight around him, toes curling against the dirty tiles when pleasure sparks low in her belly. A sharp feeling that he doesn’t give the chance to dissipate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Johnny!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck,” he stills inside her for a second, holding his release back. “God, you sound good, fuck, okay.” He lets out a strained sigh and rolls his hips slowly. Testing the waters. He groans, head dipping forward to rest his chin on his chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hand comes around to part her folds, finding her engorged clit with ease. He dances circles around it, humming out a pleased note when she lets a whimper slip free. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There we go.” He nips at her ear and finally starts moving again. Just as quick as before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gonna make me cum, Johnny.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughs, fingers moving faster in rough strokes against her nub. “That’s sorta the point.” He goes to hold onto the back of her neck with his other hand, metal fingers making her skin ache. “And when you do it’s gonna be the most beautiful fucking thing. You’re gonna milk my cock so</span>
  <em>
    <span> good</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her pussy clenches at the sound of his voice and that earns her another booming laugh. She’s painfully close to the edge, rocking back into him until the deafening sound of his hips hitting the flesh of her ass fills her ears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>V cums with a strangled yelp of his name. Foot kicking out against the wood of the sink and breaking it further. Making her toes ache. Her hand comes up to plant in the center of the mirror and she gets to watch Johnny break apart as her cunt goes tight around his dick and he finishes right after her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t waste time pulling out to watch his seed drip out of her and run down her thighs. Enraptured by the sight for a few quiet seconds, spurred on by her ragged breaths to swiftly scoop up his semen and press it back inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes shutter close at the sensitivity of his finger delving in once more. “Holy shit…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nice to see I’m still a good fuck after all these years.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>V nods rapidly, whining when he withdraws his finger and wipes her slick carelessly down her spine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you’re not careful my ego’s gonna get a whole lot bigger.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Don’t think that’s possible at this point, Samurai. You’re your own biggest fan.” She collects herself the best she can, straightening her back and turning around to face him properly. Her chest is heaving, and it draws his eyes downward, fingers twitching with the want to grope her tits. The images flash in her head and another rush of arousal greets her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A round two is the last thing she can do right now though, even if Johnny’s cock is starting to perk up again at the implications of going again. She wouldn’t be surprised if he got some sort of enhancement for his junk just to make the refractory period smaller.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’re we doing now?” It feels weird to ask him that when she’s supposed to be the one in control here. But they’ve been leaning on one another for too long for her to get prideful now. She needs him to keep her going, even if, in the end, he’s reaching for a goal that’ll wind up with him gone for good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If it was up to her she’d give up her life for his.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” Johnny looks slightly cross, stepping forward to grab her shoulders and give her a little shake. “I’m not doing that. </span>
  <em>
    <span>We’re</span>
  </em>
  <span> not doing that, V. This is your life and your body...I’m dead but you’re young. You can have everyone in Night City at your beck and call, fucking hell, you still got your whole life ahead of you. I’m not taking that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She tips her head curiously, wondering if he’d really be able to stop her if she kept on walking through the desert, right out of Night City, and never looked back. They could see as much of the world as their limited time allowed until eventually the relic stole her mind away and passed it over to Johnny. Neither of them would be able to stop it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a tempting idea. But one she can’t hide from him. He hears her loud and clear, judging by the way he recoils and glitches out into the hallway to put some kind of space between them. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>hates </span>
  </em>
  <span>that idea. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Too fucking bad she’s the one in the driver’s seat.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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